Mad World
by Solona Amell
Summary: You'd think the death of the entire world would be enough to make them act like adults, but no matter how you looked at it, they were children. And Parker was no different. Just teenagers strapped in armor and sent off to war. They had no experience, no skills, no anything. But if they didn't fight, then who would?
1. DAY ONE: PARKER

**DAY ONE ~ PARKER**

 _Shit._

Setting his Lancer into it's holster, Parker hefted his long shot off his back and into his hands. As his other two squadmates waited in cover, he jogged farther into town, looking for any sign of life other than his own. As the rain poured down, he walked a steady pace through the dark with his gun raised. After walking less than a click, the sound of a cough shot Paker's instincts into gear, aiming his rifle on impulse. But as he peered through his scope, the eyes he saw were human, not Locust.

 _Stranded territory. I swear if they start to get any ideas…_

He turned away from the glaring settlers who were huddled in the abandoned buildings and began his track back to his squad, stopping once to look down at a small puddle of rain. His reflection stared back, the same blonde hair and brown eyes that he's always had, and yet they belonged to a stranger. He'd changed so much since the war.

By the time he made it back to his squad, they had become restless. Squinting through the rain and darkness, his eyes finally rested on Simon who was fidgeting with his lancer, crouched behind what used to be a car, and clearly scared shitless. Parker could tell he was counting to a thousand in his head, mouthing the words with bated breath. His dark, beaded eyes scrambled all over the place, ready for an ambush. Less than a couple feet from him was Cathrine, looking no less anxious about the mission. Her back was pressed to the brick wall of an old house, her eyes shut and hands clasped together, as if in prayer. It was almost humorous to see the differences between the two. With both of them in position, that just left Parker to make the move.

He crept forward from his own hiding spot, streaking across the open road to duck in the open doorway of the home, right in between his squad. In just seconds, they followed.

"Well? What do we have? Scouts? A squadron?"

Simon's mouth moved a mile a minute, spewing anything and everything. Ground work was never his forte. His fear mixed with inexperience made him a stumbling mess. Even now, after dozens of routine tasks, he still fidgeted with his weapons when he was nervous. At the moment, his gloved hands were raking through his wild black hair in agitation.

"More than just scouts that's for sure, but hell if I know how many."

Cathrine shook her head with a sigh, brown bangs falling across her face. She looked tired, drained. "No matter how many you shoot down, they just keep coming…"

 _Yeah, our lives fucking suck._

"I don't know how many there are, but I know it's too much for us to handle alone. We need to fall back."

"Sounds good to me." Simon began his track back to Armadillo. The mission was finished. They were to track Locust movement, then report back. As simple as that.

"Hold on, we can't just leave." Cathrine held up her hands, brown eyes glaring at Simon. "There's stranded settlers deeper into the city. "The Grubs will tear them to shreds."

"Great, even more reason to go. Bastards can rot in hell for all I care. Not like they make life easier for us."

"We can't just leave them to die!"

"They're Stranded!"

"They're fighting the same fight we are!"

"Fine," Simon turned away from Cathrine, looking towards Parker. "Let's have the squad leader decide."

 _Seriously? Why me?_

"I think the two of you sound like children arguing over who gets to sit in the front seat. This is exactly why we're still grunts.

That snapped the argument in two. They both turned away, ashamed. You'd think the death of the entire world would be enough to make them act like adults, but no matter how you looked at it, they were children. And Parker was no different. Just teenagers strapped in armor and sent off to war. They had no experience, no skills, no anything. But if they didn't fight, then who would?

 _"Ground-Walkers…"_

On instinct, all three Gears lifted their weapons and turned. Parker reloaded, hearing the wispy breath of Simon just behind him, and Cathrine's quick prayer to God. The Locust were here.

Simon whimpered. "We wasted too much time, they're already here! W-we can't face them all!"

"It's too late to turn back we have to fight!"

With one last glance behind him, seeing Simon's dumbfounded stare and Cathrine's trembling lips, he charged out the door and into the horde.

It was like staring into the face of death. Mutilated flesh with rippling muscles and open wounds, with jagged teeth and black eyes that raised the hair on your neck. And the stench. They were abominations. And they were ready to kill.

 _I'm going to die._

Parker fired repeatedly into the masses of Grubs before tossing his Longshot aside for his Gnasher Shotgun. Bullets ricocheted around him, and with no cover nearby, he felt the agonizing pain of tearing flesh as the delved through his skin. His own screams were covered up by deep maniacal laughter and the sound of Cathrine crying out behind him. The Locust kept pushing forward, despite all the rounds he'd pumped through them. He continued the assault, until hearing a familiar click of his trigger.

 _Out of ammo. Shit. SHIT!_

Struggling to pull another clip from his belt, Parker stumbled backwards. But as he jammed his final round into his shotgun, the solid boot of a Grub slammed into his jaw. With blinding pain, he blinked back tears as yet another kick smashed his face into the ground, blood spraying with each blow. Before his vision faded completely to black, a blast of cartridges slammed into the grub, sending him flying. Cathrine was crying, but she held her ground, firing her own shotgun above his head. He could see each bullet as it hit her skin, her blood mixing with his on the pavement...

The battle no longer seemed to exist. The ear piercing sound of each bullet fired was no just a dull echo. Parker's body felt numb as he watched his teammates thrash. Cathrine was on her knees, clicking the trigger on her empty weapon. Her tears had become sobs, merely blending in with the rain. Simon still stood inside, his body pressed against the crumbling wall as tremors shook his entire form. His weapon lay on the floor, unused. He'd given up.

This was it. Blackness. The numbness took over with a bitter-sweet bliss. Parker stopped struggling.

 _I'm going to die..._


	2. DAY TWO: LEAH

"So what do you think's out there?"

Larson jabbed his fork in the direction of the town, almost a hundred clicks away outside the window. His helmet sat beside his tray, revealing his shaved head and numerous scars. The helmet itself was spray painted with a variety of humorous messages that Leah enjoyed reading out of boredom. She sat across from him with her own tray of rations, more interested in her food than the city in the backdrop.

He pondered for a moment, waving his fork in circles as if it helped him think. "You know, the last team they sent hasn't responded. Bet the Stranded didn't like Cog in their territory and got all trigger-happy."

"Doubt it." Leah licked her fingers in unabashed enthusiasm. "They aren't that stupid."

They both finished their meals like it was their last. A statement that could easily become true. When the whole world was shit, food tasted alot better. Even war rations.

"Some of those Stranded settlements are pretty well fortified. They pick up weapons off the dead COG Soldiers, fucking makes me sick."

"We do the same."

"Yeah, but we respect the dead. Those are our fucking comrades in arms, not just a meat sack filled with ammunition… Fucking Stranded."

They sat in silence for awhile, not thinking, just simply making the most of their downtime. In just a few minutes, they'd be back on duty and ready to fight once again. So they relished the time they had. Leah had been a Gear long enough to know how things worked. Both she and Larson valued their peace when they had it; they didn't bitch about the bad things in life.

 _Damn, I can't wait to kick some Locust ass._

"So Larson, what's your schedule today?"

"Patrolling the eastern border. You?"

"Patrolling the west."

"Hmm. I guess it's better than having to patrol central huh? Considering the last team didn't come back."

"Rookies. They're always the first to go."

Larson gave a lopsided grin as he stood. "We were all rookies once, Lee." He sighed, "Well, I gotta use the latrine before the Colonel comes and kicks my ass out on the field. Don't get killed while I'm gone."

Leah smiled. "Take care, Larson."

As he walked out the door to the Commons Area, Leah returned to staring out the window. Ignoring the sirens that signaled the start of a new shift. Idly twirling a black curl of hair with her fingertips, she gazed at the city in the distance.

 _'We were all rookies once,' What a bunch of bullshit._

Gears weren't made, they were born. You could slap a rifle into a man's hand but that didn't make him a soldier. Less than half of the COG forces today were civilians that had no other choice but to be outfitted in armor. They were survivors, squad members, but they weren't Gears. A true soldier is born a soldier, not a rookie. When that gun touched their hands, they knew how to use it. It wasn't just a weapon, it was an extension of himself. Gears understood that. Civilians didn't.

 _And that's why humanity is completely fucked. Too many civilians walking around in armor and getting their asses shot down on the field. We lose more than we save._

"Sergeant Reyes, What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

Leah's head snapped up to see Colonel Hoffman staring her down. Tall, angry, and square jawed, he towered over her with clear spite, the veins in his neck bulging like always. He spoke in his usual military tone, loud and degrading.

"Did you suddenly go deaf from age? When the sirens go off, you get your ass up and go to your station IMMEDIATELY!"

"Sir yes sir!"

Just as she stood, he put a hand up. "Not so fast, there's been a change in schedule." Blinking, Leah studied the man's face, searching for any clues as to what this was about.

"Sergeant Reyes, you'll be accompanying me into the city. I'll debrief you on the mission on the way. Suit up and be ready in five."


	3. DAY THREE: PARKER

**DAY THREE ~ PARKER**

Darkness, then light.

Parker opened his eyes, but shut them immediately. The pain was excruciating, throbbing through his entire body like individual hearts that hurt with each beat. Even lifting his eyelids brought a wave of agony and exhaustion.

He could hear soft murmuring around him, masked by the squeaking of wheels and heavy footsteps. Reaching out in desperation, Parker felt nothing but air slip through his fingers. As his hand fell, he felt his fingers brush fabric. He was on a medical stretcher.

He struggled to open his eyes once again, seeing the figure of another Gear watching him. It looks like backup had come after all. But instead of facing reality, he let himself drift back into the darkness, leaving the voices and light behind.

~LEAH~

"Damn."

Leah wasn't faced by much, but even she grimaced at the sight before her. What was left of the central area could hardly be called a city, ruins of what once was. Ash covered _everything,_ leaving a sickly grey color on all it touched. Broken and battered buildings surrounded the cracked cement and burnt vehicles. The skyscrapers were now hollow frames, void of life. A once prosperous city was now a ghost town. Leah knew the ash on her boots wasn't just from _things._ People had lived here too.

Hoffman barked orders at the remaining men, ignoring Leah beside him. She tuned out his words as usual, not interested in playing the military game.

"Your first priority is to eliminate all hostiles. Then you search for survivors. You find a body, you get the tags and you take the weapons. You know the drill. Don't. Leave. Anything. Behind. Salvage everything you can. I don't want to see one single damn bullet on this road. NOW MOVE OUT!"

They marched deeper into the ruins, leaving their Dills parked by the city limit sign. She watched them leave, wondering how many would come back this time.

Hoffman let out a string of polite curse words under his breath, eyeing the fuel tank on his own Dill. The damn things ran on a shit ton of Imulsion. And fuel was harder to find than gold. Even the smallest leak in a tank could lead to the death of an entire squadron.

Adjusting her lancer impulsively, she jogged closer to the Colonel.

"Didn't I give you an order, Reyes?"

"You gave _them_ an order."

"Well shit. You think you're special, princess? You're a Gear! And you follow the order your commanding officer gives!"

Leah scoffed. "Those soldiers out there are NOT gears. They're civilians with armor. Being a Gear is more than just pointing a gun."

Hoffman sighed, closing the metal door to the fuel tank. "We're at war, Sergeant. These are the only Gears we got _left._ And if you wanna live to see another day, you'll go out there and help your comrades. Civilians or not"

She didn't respond, watching her "comrades" in the distance. They were all strangers, but they walked together like a team. Funny how a war could make people come together.

"Hey! Assholes!"

 _And break them apart too. Fucking Stranded._

Both Hoffman and Leah glanced up, shading their eyes from the sun. At least three stories up on a nearby building stood a man, grimy and pissed off. He sure as hell wasn't a Gear, but he held his Hammerburst like a professional. Scratching his wild beard, he shouted down at them.

"What's wrong COG? Comin' to take what we got left? You dicks just take whatever you want huh? Fucking Bastards."

Leah raised her Lancer. "Excuse me? Why don't you say that down here you-"

"Stand down Sergeant," Hoffman held his end up, despite her protests. "We aren't here to cause trouble. We just wanna find our missing team."

"Oh I know who your talkin' about. A group of three."

"You've seen them?"

"Yeah," He shouted, slightly less aggressive, 'Saw 'em before they headed deeper into town. But they didn't come back out."

Leah narrowed her eyes. "Did you and your friends get a little trigger-happy?"

"Look who's talkin' sweetheart." He waved his rifle in the air. "The Stranded didn't do nothin' to your damn friends. But I can't say the same for the Locust. They always seem to come out of hiding when the COG shows up."

"You saw them attack and you didn't help?" Leah was on the verge of firing a round.

"They were _dead._ It was three against a hundred. There was so many, we couldn't even get down there to take the guns." The man slowly put his rifle down, pointing towards the direction of the Gears. "You wanna find your team? They were over there, what's left of them anyway."

Hoffman grunted. "Your help is appreciated."

"Don't give me that shit. Just hurry up and go… Damn COG."

They took his advice, making their way towards the rest of the team. As she jogged, Leah looked down, contemplating.

 _Dead. No surprise._

It's what she expected to hear. The once hopeful optimism that they used to have was now gone. Millions were dead, and hundreds were dying each day. No one really gave a damn about being positive anymore. It was all about survival. You either learned to live, or you died trying. Just like the rookies who were gunned down by the locust.

Hoffman seemed to think the same, shaking his head wearily as he surveyed the city. Leah knew he was there when the Hammer of Dawn went off. When the COG killed its own citizens to stop the Locust. It hadn't worked. And now the people called themselves "Stranded" and refused to trust their own Government. Hoffman had been working beside the men who hit the switch. And now, he was seeing all the destruction he had caused. They'd never win this war.

"Sir!"

As they reached the cross section, a Gear approached, his face covered by the standard helmet. His Lancer was pointed down, a sign that the hostiles had left the area.

Hoffman's bark was back, nearly shouting in his face. "Report Soldier!"

"We found the team but… two are dead. A locust ambush."

"Damn Grubs. Where's the survivor?"

He pointed towards another group of Gears, carrying a blood spattered stretcher. On it was one of the youngest soldiers Leah had seen so far. Dirty blonde hair that curled around his goggles and a 5 o'clock shadow. Blood seeped through his armor, maroon in color. Leah could tell he'd been laying there for awhile.

As the body was wheeled closer, she watched the man open his eyes. But he couldn't keep them open, and they shut almost immediately. His hand eased off the stretcher, reaching out with shaky fingers. He focused on Leah for only a moment before falling back unconcious.

She and Hoffman watched silently. Leah gazed across the city, seeing the other soldiers surrounding an abandoned home. She could just make out two bodies, both deathly still. A male and female, both just as young as the survivor. They hadn't been as lucky as him.

"Recon," Hoffman muttered beside her. "That's all it was. To investigate the area and check for hostiles."

"They found them."

"Sure did." He turned back to Leah, eyeing the soldier as he was carried back to the Dill. Seeing the chance to talk, she grabbed his attention.

"Why did you bring me here?"

He rolled his eyes as if it were obvious. "I've seen you work, Reyes. You don't see a war, you see a graveyard. Humanity ain't dead yet, but you're not giving it a chance."

"Those Gears are dead, sir."

"Wrong. Two are dead. But that one," He said nodding. "He survived. A civilian and a child just like the others, but he's still here."

She eyed him wearily. "What are you talking about."

"He's here because he wanted to survive. And so does humanity. But this war is already over if you've given up. So knock that shit off."

Leah stifled a laugh. "Yes sir."

"Good. Now that all this shit is out of the way, let's get the hell outta here. We need to report to CIC before the Locust get there first."

They began their walk back, avoiding the Stranded on the way. Leah chewed over Hoffman's words carefully. She knew he had good intentions, but she didn't have faith in something like this. She'd seen what was left of humanity, and it couldn't be saved at this point.

Before getting back into the Dill, her eyes rested on the sole survivor, still asleep on the stretcher. His wounds were bad, but he really had fought to survive.

 _Gears are born not made… I hope that counts for you too._


	4. DAY FOUR: PARKER

"Vital signs are looking good. I'd say he'll live."

"I appreciate your work, Doctor."

"The _hell_ you do. Stop sending these kids out to war, these medical supplies wont last forever. And fuck you if you think I'll keep trying."

Parker stiffened, feeling a needle slide into his forearm. Clearly morphine was part of the short supply, because he felt every wound on his body in pure and indeniable agony. The doctor didn't seem bother being gentle either.

He recognized the gravel military voice as Colonel Hoffman, a superior officer by a long shot. Someone who has much more important things to do then to check up on the health of one grunt. Parker pretended he wasn't listening.

"Are you going to break the news to him? Or just wait for someone else to drop the bomb?"

He peeked open his eyes just a bit, focusing on a old and rather frail old woman with a steely gaze. She looked as if her voice would break with every word, but instead it came out sharp like a whip. Not exactly the most friendly doctor. Parker chose to close his eyes again.

"He'll get the news. Let him recover first."

"Keep sending these children out to fight and there won't be anyone left, Victor."

There was a small pause, then the conversation ended there, and Parker heard the heavy footfall of a Gear leave the room. He felt the doctor graze his tattered skin a few times, positioning his body more comfortably, then left to continue her job. He let himself breath, still aching from pure agony.

He sat up just enough to study the room; small and clean. Or at least cleaner than most of the world. He was on a rather desolate looking hospital bed, the majority of his armor sprawled in the foor, leaving his chest exposed but for a few bandages. Two measly lights waved overhead, casing enough to see the dozens of needles and scalples and god knows what else lying on a tray next to him. Parker nearly fained when he saw how much blood he was actually laying on. He breifly wondered if it was even his.

 _I'm not dead..._

It didn't seem like much of an acomplishment, but for Parker it was a shock. He hadn't been the most sucessful squad leader... Simon and Catherine, their injuries must be even worse. And having the Colonel himself show up. It probably meant he'd been discharged. The first Gear to ever fuck up this bad.

The heavy footsteps returned, and Parker flopped out of medical bed to greet Hoffman immediately, nearly stumbling in the process.

 _Fuck, I'm so stupid. This is it. Honorable Discharge my ass._

"Good morning sir, I-"

He stopped, blinking as he realized the stocky man he expected was instead a lanky girl, her arms folded stiffly. She had a runner's build to her, thin and nimble, with muddy brown curls and narrowed eyes that didn't seem pleased. Her armor was missing, showing her army green sweater cut at the stomach and ragged jeans. But Parker didn't need to see the armor to know she was a Gear. She just had that air.

And she had the air of someone who was really, really pissed.

As Parker gawked, Hoffman appeared behind her, not even slightly surprised at her presence. The girl didn't acknoledge him, still staring the lesser Gear down. Parker turned away.

"Parker Nelson?"

"Sir."

Hoffman motioned towards the bed. "May want to sit down for this, soldier."

Parker oblidged, still trying not to stare at the girl. She didn't deter her gaze. But he honestly didn't care at the moment. He tried to pretend that he wasn't scared shitless about the words that were about to come. Honorable Discharge. Honorable. Discharge. Honorable-

"You're squad is dead."

Parker choked. "What?"

He didn't move, just stared for any sign of the truth in his face. Hoffman's gaze didn't change, still hard stone. But his usual stiff expression softened just slightly. The girl still didn't move, but even she looked down. Taking a ragged breath, Parker gripped his knees, numb to any pain he had. They're both dead. His team.

"I'm sorry to say that both Simon Patel and Cathrine Meyer have passed. We secured their weapons, but neither of them have family waiting for them outside the, so their tags need an owner."

He gently pulled out two chains from a pocket off his leg, letting the small little gears tremble in the air, black metal shining in the light. Deftly, Parker took them into his shaking hands. They were clean. The blood that had surely caked the surface was gone. Hoffman bowed his head, then continued.

"We can't fall behind on every death, soldier. Stand tall, and step forward to receive your next assignment."

 _Simon and Cathrine..._

Hoffman continued on, sharing a few words of millitary wisdom and careful advice, but by that time Parker had tuned out the world. Simon and Cathrine were nearly strangers, but they were his _squad._ He should have made the decision. He should have been a real leader. He should have been a _Gear_ , not a child.

 _Why am I still here? I don't deserve another assignment._

Hoffman must have seen the doubt, because he did a rare act that Parker never imagined. He lowered his hat, running a hand along his bare head. His usually millitary bravado was gone.

"Look soldier, ever Gear faces the same challenges that you did. Mistakes were made and there were casualties because of it. But you're alive. So take the chance to learn from those mistakes."

He didn't respond, just nodded weakly. Hoffman took it as agreement and placed the hat back on his head. Just like that, the moment was over, and he gave a curt nod to the both of them before introducing the girl.

"This is Sargeant Leah Reyes. Your new squad leader."

 _Shit._

Parker blinked, trying to stay calm under her gaze. But Leah didn't make it easy. She glared daggers, as if the thought of being in a squad with a rookie was killing her reputation. And honestly that was probably pretty accurate. Parker smiled pathetically. Leah did not.

 _I just found out my friends are dead, and now you're throwing me to the wolves? God I should have never became a Gear._

Hoffman cleared his throat, clearly having better things to do. "Hopefully this will be a learning experience for both of you. Reyes will be part of your new permanent squad. So get used to eachother." He pulled a small strip of paper out of his pocket, handing it to Parker with the Cog tags still hanging from his fingers. "Find the rest of your squad before sundown. You move out tonight."

And that was that. Hoffman took the moment to leave the room, and Parker became stuck with Leah. For good.

Leah ran.


End file.
